


Dai Hurairah

by dubstepgun



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-26
Updated: 2012-05-26
Packaged: 2017-11-06 01:19:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/413138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dubstepgun/pseuds/dubstepgun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malik finds a kitten. Altair doesn't like it. Malik likes it more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dai Hurairah

"Safety and peace, Malik," Altair said as he dropped into the Bureau.

Malik nodded shortly without looking up and returned his own traditional greeting. "What do you want?"

"I have gathered information on the target. I am ready to strike."

"How wonderful for you." Malik turned, drew a scroll from a rack, and shoved it across the counter. "Here is the layout of his estate. Far be it from you to have to do any of the work yourself."

Altair took the plans with thanks that Malik ignored. Thinking to set his route, he unrolled it and turned toward the light that streamed in through the open roof.

He frowned. "I can't read this."

"The lapses in your education are not my problem," said Malik. He was busy behind the counter.

Altair returned, holding the map spread. "You see? There is ink all over it in trails."

"If you don't want it, don't take it," Malik snapped, pulling at his robe. "Get on with it. I have better things to do than listen to your complaints."

Altair studied the map closely. "The marks resemble pawprints."

"Don't you have a man to kill?"

"Malik." Altair fixed the dai with a level gaze. "Your robe is mewing."

"It is not! Wasting my time with your idiocy is not getting your mission any nearer to completion- get back here!"

The last was, not surprisingly, not to him. What Malik was grabbing for was a tiny black creature that had struggled free of his clothing and hopped onto the counter. It evaded him without apparent effort and regarded Altair curiously.

"A kitten, Malik?" said Altair, looking back into its wide green eyes with equal interest.

"It has nothing to do with you," Malik snapped.

Altair regarded him quietly.

Malik sighed. "She fell through the roof and wouldn't leave me be until I fed her." A glare. "Much like other stray mongrels I could name."

"So you are keeping an animal here."

The hint of opposition seemed to give Malik encouragement. "Cats are clean and respectable. It's said that the Prophet himself once cut off his sleeve rather than disturb a cat who was sleeping there."

"I had no idea you were so devout." The little cat padded across the counter. Malik swiftly spirited an inkwell out of the way. "You would do better to be rid of the nuisance."

The cat was so black it appeared to be only luminous eyes set in a fuzzy shadow. Altair watched with distrust as it sat on a letter and curled its tail neatly around its feet.

"I agree," said Malik. He spread out a parchment and began to write something. The cat sprang to its feet to chase after the quill, which somehow managed to always bob just out of reach. "The nuisance should go do his job."

Altair stepped closer, refusing to be dissuaded. "I meant _that_. It is cute, yes, but of no use."

He extended his hand to the animal. It gave his fingers an investigating sniff.

"Don't be a fool. She eats little and will keep away pests."

Altair tried scratching it behind the ears. It flattened its ears back, hissed, and swiped at him. He pulled his stinging hand back with a curse.

Malik set down his quill and gathered the kitten in his arm with a delighted smile. "You see? She's already started."

Altair climbed back onto the rooftop to get to his task. he set out with no map, a fresh laceration, and a determination to bring back a bloody feather. And perhaps something jingly.


End file.
